Bound by My Truths
by CuteCat213
Summary: Victim of a prank gone wrong, Marik Ishtar saves the life of school bully Bakura Tozokuo. His reward for this good deed? Getting handcuffed to his tormentor for the weekend. But it might turn out to be a blessing in desguise instead of the curse he thinks it, if they get through it, and if his father and Bakura don't kill him first. Thiefshipping.
1. Chapter 1

**Please see the author's note added at the end if you've read this chapter before 3:00 p. m. (ish) November 5 (Tuesday).**

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Name legends:

My Names = Canon Names

Marik Ishtar

Marik "Malice" Ishtar = Yami Marik

Ryou Yadonushi = Ryou Bakura

Bakura Tozokuo = Yami Bakura

Diabound "Thief" Tozokuo = Thief King Bakura

Yugi Moto

Yami Yugioh = Yami Yugi

Atem Yugioh = Pharaoh

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Pairings:

Yami Bakura x Marik (Thiefshipping)

Yami Marik x Ryou Bakura (Deathshipping)

Tristan Taylor x Duke Devlin (Chaseshipping)

Seto Kaiba x Alister (Revengeshipping)

Joey Wheeler x Valon (Jeershipping)

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**I'm not sure who I want to stick Thief with yet. Please note that this will be (mostly) first person, alternating between Marik and Bakura (Probably more Marik than Bakura, but we'll see).**

* * *

Prologue: Thursday

* * *

Something decidedly unpleasant squelched against the back of my head, fouling my hair and dripping down the back of my jacket. Ryou leaned over with his nose crinkled and brushed the disgusting thing away, "Rotten fruit, that's a new low even for them."

"Vegetables."

"No, actually. Tomatoes are a fruit."

"I'm the one that got hit with it, and I say it's a vegetable. Feel free to dispute the matter once you've been targeted. Until then, it's a vegetable."

"Fine, it's a vegetable, now let's get it out of your hair."

I sighed and entered the school, heading for the restrooms with my only friend at my side. Ryou immediately set his books down and wetted a paper towel, wiping away most of the remaining tomato goo. I took some more paper towels and dried my hair, "If I know them at all, they'll probably hit me with pasta at lunch time."

"Do you really think so?"

I gave him a look and went back to cleaning myself as the late bell rang. We threw the towels away and gathered our things, running for the class room. We took our seats and the tardy slip from the teacher, ignoring the snickering of the other students and the cocky smirks of our three primary tormentors. I ignored Ms. Medusa and pulled out my sketch book. This wasn't my best subject, and the teacher hated me anyway.

Ryou got out his text book and started the lesson. I flipped to the latest page and continued my current sketch. It was supposed to be an angel whose wings, fading from white to black, had been broken and was falling, reaching up through the darkness for their lost grace. Ryou had commented yesterday how uncanny a resemblance the angel and I shared. In more ways than one, I thought, but I'd remained silent.

I leaned over the book and started adding drops to the scene. Red droplets, blood, Hell's rain. This would have to be one of the ones I hid, I'd get severely punished if Father found it. But I found Heaven and Hell and angels too interesting to keep from drawing on occasion, Ra forgive me. Maybe Ishizu would appreciate it, given how taken she seemed at the idea of a Savior. I held no such hopes.

I lifted the fine-tipped red colored pen and tried to figure out if the picture was complete or not, crossing my hands over one another. My chair was kicked from behind and I jerked forward against my desk, the pen digging into the back of my left hand deeply. I removed it and licked the blood away, ignoring the attack. It was Bakura, of course, the one in the assigned seat directly behind me. On his left would be his cousin, Thief, and on his right, directly behind Ryou, was my own distant (in the emotional sense: we were cousins) relative. We shared the same birth name: Marik, but I had yet to hear anyone call him by anything besides Malice since my family had moved here from Egypt.

He wasn't the same person as when we were children, but then, neither was I. We were no longer the children playing chase through the halls of the Ishtar family tomb. He had been my first kiss, memories of him was what helped me discover my sexual preference, and he was the one who'd told the whole school I was gay on my first day and made me the personal target of the school bullies he was numbered among. I still had the family treasure he'd given me when he moved away when we were eight: the Millennium Rod. We had gotten our face tattoos at the same time, we shared a name and the same birthday. He'd hung me out one of the classroom windows of the school by my ankles with a climbing rope.

Ryou had tried to pull me up, but lacked the upper body strength to do so, his attempts only managing to undo the knot that was tied inside the classroom and send us both plummeting down three stories to land in the bushes. I'd dislocated a shoulder, and Ryou had gotten a sprained wrist; we were both lucky not to have broken anything. Naturally, the entire thing had been set up as the two of us trying a prank that disastrously backfired. We'd gotten two weeks' detention.

But it was fine, I had already learned not to trust anyone I shared blood with by the time 'Malice' and I met again, at that point I was merely wondering in what form the betrayal would come.

Another kick came from behind me, "Hey, bug-boy, how was breakfast?" I continued to ignore the taunting until I was hit in the back of the head with something hard and rounded. A tennis ball stolen from gym? "Look at someone when they're talking to you." I set my pen down and looked over my shoulder at the glaring russet eyes impassively, unafraid to make eye contact. For some reason I couldn't understand, my stare made people uncomfortable, and Bakura scoffed, "Tch! Forget it, loser." I kept staring until he looked back at me and snarled, "Turn back around!"

I faced forward again and saw Ryou shaking his head out of the corner of my eye, likely convinced I had just earned us more torture after class. Maybe he was right. New students (though I was 'newer' than Ryou by two weeks or so), both gay and having odd looks, Ryou and I had been easy targets. At some point in the first month, not long after the window incident, someone had thought it would be funny to put the science class pet scorpion on my shoulder during class. It had not gotten the desired response when I carefully picked it up, put it on my palm, and held it close to my body to share body heat. Scorpions were hardy creatures, but the science room was heavily air conditioned and I'd worried for it, standing up calmly and putting it back in its tank with its heating lamp while smiling.

I had no fear of scorpions, I'd been raised around them my whole life, and the science room one wasn't deadly to humans by any stretch. My own scorpion, Serket, was more dangerous. Thankfully no one had known of my paralyzing fear of spiders. Deadly scorpions I could handle; spiders, not at all.

I lost myself in my drawings until the bell rang and brought me back to the real world. I packed up my sketch book and left with Ryou following closely. I hated Geography, I hadn't studied anything about the world outside Egypt in my entire life, which left me desperately struggling to catch up, same for our next evil class: World History. I'd have flunked out of both classes if Ryou hadn't been helping me every chance he got.

Ms. Medusa taught Geo, and Mr. Titus World History, and both of them despised us. I suspected Medusa's contempt for me was because she just happened to be working on Egypt the week I started and I'd corrected a mistake she made about weather patterns. Ryou was guilty by association. But Titus seemed to have a deep-seated hatred for feminine and effeminate men and/or long hair, and never hesitated to abuse his position as a teacher. I wasn't foolish enough to try and report him, I'd gone down that dead end street too many times and learned my lesson; and Ryou was too terrified of what would happen if we did tattle and no one listened.

I sighed and looked down the hall, "Come on, you know we'll get nailed for it if we aren't in class before the first bell rings."

He winced but nodded, "Right, and we already have one tardy today."

No one else was even in the hallway we headed down, except for the one person we wished wasn't there at all, "Yadonushi. Ishtar."

We both ducked our heads and slid around him into the classroom quickly. If we didn't move fast enough to suit him, he'd wrap his fingers in our hair and lead us around like dogs on leashes before shoving us into our seats. He'd done it the very first day I got here, and every chance he had after that when we hadn't cut our long hair after he'd ordered us to. There were no other boys in the class that had long hair, so I didn't know if he'd already gotten to them, or if we were his first victims.

* * *

Ryou sighed and took a bite from his fruit cup, "Why do we have to put up with them?"

"Bakura, Malice and Thief?"

"And Professor Titus. Any of them."

"Because we have no power and any one of them could snap us in half in passing and not even notice?"

"But _why?_ What gives them the right to torment us?"

I shrugged and finished my own discount fruit cup lunch, the one free meal I got a day. I put it down with a discontent sigh; it was filling, or at least it filled me, though I didn't eat much, but it had some weird fruit in it that I couldn't name and didn't like. Continued exposure to the mystery fruit hadn't made it any more palatable than the first time. Ah, well, " 'Proposition: Right or wrong, they have the might, So right or wrong, they're always right. That's wrong, right?' "

Ryou sighed and nodded, then looked up at me and frowned, "That sounded familiar. You didn't get that from Philosophy, did you?" he asked, referring to my occasional use of quotes I heard in one of the two classes we didn't share together.

I shook my head, "Nope. And it _should _sound familiar, we just watched the movie I got it from the other night."

He looked confused for a moment before his face cleared and he hit his forehead with his palm, "Right, I can't believe I forgot. Actually, I'm more surprised you remember."

"I can't help it. Words, language, numbers; they stick with me."

Ryou's smile was indulgent and mischievous, "It's a shame that dates, times, places and events don't come so easily."

I groaned and hid my face in my arms, "I hate my classes."

"You do awesome at most of them."

" 'Most' implies a majority; 'half' doesn't qualify. World History, Geography, Gym, -ugh- _Chemistry_. I _hate _Chemistry,"

"It's a shame it's our next class, then."

I groaned, "Nooo, don't _remind _me. Give me anything but chem. Give me any form of mathematic equation; I can name pi to sixteen places. Languages: I know Japanese, English, Arabic, and four different dialects of Egyptian. Earth Science: I know the water table as well as any; the properties of light refraction; the differences between animal and plant cells. Hell, give me Astrology: I can tell you what day of the year it is with a single glance at the sky on a given night. _Anything _but Chemistry." I was set to flunk _right out_ of that class, and Ryou couldn't help because it wasn't his best subject either. All those little colored boxes and letters swam around in my head and I was never sure what the periodic number was for any element, let alone what they could be combined to do.

"I don't think they even have a class in Astrology."

"They do not." I informed sullenly, "I checked when we first moved: I would have taken it if they had. But they didn't, and thus my choice of Philosophy."

My schedule was this (depending on the day of the week): Geography, World History, Honors' Arithmetic (without Ryou) or Social Studies, Earth Science or Languages (which Ryou and I were both excelling at), Lunch, Chemistry, either Gym or Home Ec (which I didn't even consider a class), a free period, Study Hall, and Philosophy. I had little use for Study Hall and skipped it more often than not, leaving me with a large chunk of time to myself since it was right after my Free Period.

Domino Academy's school strictures were brutal: every student had to have gone through the equivalent of four levels (which usually amounted to a year each) of education in at least eight (of a possible fourteen, and one _had_ to be Gym or Phys Ed) base classes, and at least two of a possible six electives. Class schedules were determined by which classes a person was worst at: the worse you were, the more often that class was on your schedule. I supposed it went by the reasoning that the worse you were, the more you needed to work at it, and that it tended to equalize your strong and weak classes so that you finished them at about the same time. Or some psycho-torturous babble like that; it was all just an excuse to torment the students, I was certain. Which just plain sucked, because it meant I was stuck with Geo, World His, and Chem _every _day! Thankfully Gym was a mandatory three-day-a-week max so students weren't overly worn out.

I sighed, "I'm going to be in the music room later if you want to drop by."

Ryou nodded, "Of course, you'll have Odion and Ishizu with you, right?"

"Naturally." I could have taken Music as a class if I'd wanted, and been willing to give up my Free Period, but that would mean shuffling my schedule so that I only had four classes with Ryou, and not the two I so desperately needed his help in since Music was taught in the morning 'when the kids were bushiest-tailed and before they lost their voices shouting and whatnot'. I was better off making use of it in the afternoon when it was already empty for the day and figuring out my own way with Ishizu, Odion, and Ryou.

When I wasn't stealing use of the music room, I snuck out onto the roof to watch clouds. I'd had a fascination with the sky ever since the first time I'd seen it, an uncontrollable urge to reach up and grasp it in my hands. But, irony of ironies, I was afraid of heights. Ah, well, what else could one expect being raised underground? Or Ryou and I would find an out-of-the-way corner and tutor each other.

I sucked at Gym because our coach bandied to the highest denominator in the class, meaning the weaklings either caught up or got left behind. This was bad for me because I was slender and not overly muscled. I had abs from my personal fitness routine, and plenty of stamina, but I was definitely more 'acrobatic' than 'athletic'. That wasn't bad in itself, but we played dodgeball at least three times as often as we ran track, and don't get me started on the Gods-be-damned climbing ropes (heights again, joy). It was even worse for Ryou, who didn't have my stamina, and his stomach was flat without definition because he'd been unable to put up with my own training regimen. Which was not to say he wasn't toned or should be counted out, because there was almost no one better for the hundred yard dash, and I had no idea how he miraculously managed the hurdles every time.

The bell announcing the end of the lunch period rang and I thumped my head against the table, "Dammit."

Ryou gave me a reassuring pat and we carried our trays to the garbage. I sighed as we headed for the second floor and the accursed class, Ryou with his hand between my shoulderblades to make sure I didn't lag and make us late, or run off and hide, ditching the class entirely. Another reason to hate Chem: it was one of the three classes that Bakura, Malice, and Thief were nearly guaranteed to show up for rather than skip. I had come up with the sad little theory they did it just to see me fail. And they never missed a chance at the school-sponsored torture that was Gym.

* * *

POV Switch: Bakura

* * *

I nearly cackled in anticipation when I saw Ishtar and Yadonushi slink into the room, taking their assigned seats in front of myself and Malice. The mere sight of the tanned foreigner was usually enough to piss me off, like he was above everything that happened around him, but this was the exception. It was _fantastic_ to see him put in his place, squirming in discomfort when the teacher called on him and he never got the right answer.

It was nearly the only time any reaction could ever be gotten out of him. He never reacted to anything we did to him, no matter what it was. Only once had he ever made a stand, on his first day when we were having fun playing with his little pet, Yadonushi. The fool had stalked up to the three of us and proceeded to impassionedly _scold_ us! Malice had made a cutting remark about his little boyfriend, and later that day hung him out a window.

I'd been interested in the fire that had been in his purple eyes while he'd stood his ground and lectured us, the fury at seeing Yadonushi roughed up. I was determined to bring that fire back to the surface... _and extinguish it._ Break the self-righteous bastard from his protective zen shell.

He studiously bent over his desk to take notes, his hand clenching every time I intentionally jostled his seat. And then I got the ultimate satisfaction when the teacher called my name, and I answered without hesitation, "Hydrogen."

Ishtar's face darkened under his tan, suitably humiliated. _That's right, school delinquent knows more than you do, bloody know-it-all._

When class ended, he didn't stomp, he didn't run, showed no major signs of anger, but if his fingers had been any tighter on his books, they'd have left a permanent impression. I snickered as I pushed past him out the door, making sure to hit him hard enough that he smacked against the wall and lost his books. Thief and Malice guarded the door while I watched the pretentious prat kneel down at my feet where he belonged and start picking his texts back up. I kicked the closest one so it skidded away under a desk, and he glared up at me, anger burning in his gaze, only for an instant before his closed them and focused on breathing exercises. Partially satisfied, I smirked down at him and left him to crawl after his books.

My next favorite class of the day was up next: Gym.

* * *

POV Switch: Marik

* * *

I sighed and held the red ball in my hands, knowing it wasn't going to much matter in the next twenty seconds. The teams were self-chosen, which meant Ryou and I were together, and Bakura, Malice, and Thief were on the opposing team. Other members of our team included Yugi Moto, Yami Yugioh (who might actually be a help instead of a hindrance, as the self-proclaimed 'dark king of games', a title not unearned), and Noah Kaiba (who had been ill when he was young and was about as unathletic as it got, though I wouldn't want to get on his bad side with his computer club skills). Mokuba Kaiba was a distinct disadvantage, being as small as he was, though genius enough to have skipped two grades to keep up with his four-years-older elder brother. And speaking of Seto AKA the one and only Kaiba, he was of course on his little brother's team. But Joey Wheeler was on our side to be with his friend Yugi, and Joey and Kaiba never managed to hit anyone but each other. Any of the others that were on our team (Mako Tsunami, Tea Gardner, and Tristan Taylor to name a few) were basically moot given the ones I'd already named. My siblings weren't in my Gym class; Ishizu being in the one a level below me despite being a year older, and Odion was already understandably in level four, being three years older and all but set to graduate.

_We're doomed._ I cast my gaze skyward in a wordless, prayerful plea of mercy I had the distinct feeling I wasn't going to receive. The whistle sounded and I held my ball in front of my face, simultaneously getting hit from four different directions. Of course they'd managed to convince the entire team to gang up on Ryou and I first. Two whistle-blasts marked us as out of the game. I warily dropped my ball and headed for the bleachers, taking the half-expected second attack to the back of the head. How many times had I been hit there already today? Ryou looked like someone had punched him in the face and I told him as much, his cheek swelling and already starting to turn colors.

Tweets sounded quickly; Yugi, Mokuba, and Noah being hit almost immediately after Ryou and I. The coach and three teammates had to pull Kaiba and Joey apart after they had predictably aimed for one another and devolved into a fist fight; they were both penalized and sent to the bleachers. And just like that, our team was down over half its players. Yami was the uncontested MVP of our side, dodging and hitting even as his remaining teammates were taken out. But, as I'd thought, the ending was inevitable: we got slaughtered.

I sighed as I waited for everyone else to get get washed and changed. Ryou scouted for me and let me know when everyone else was gone so we could shower. I would never let anyone see me naked, and Ryou was the only exception because he'd already found my secret out, now helping me to keep it from everybody else.

We went our separate ways, Ryou to his locker, while I made a bee-line for the fourth floor music room.

* * *

POV Switch: Bakura

* * *

I growled and wished I had something or someone to kick and take my temper out on as I stalked the halls alone, avoiding my hated Maths class. I could calculate _just fine _-business math- and I could tell you the exact dimensions of a room at a single glance -Geometry- but I had _no_ need for -nor apparently any skill at- algebra. I let out an aggravated huff and stuffed my hands in my pockets, wishing Malice and Thief had been able to ditch their classes as well.

I was walking past the music room when I heard voices inside and stopped, carefully moving closer to listen in on whoever had decided to raid the unused classroom. I didn't recognise either of the voices speaking, "Which melody?"

"Mother's lullaby?" that was a girl speaking.

There was a group agreement that muffled individual voices, but I thought I could count at least four people in the room total. Then the music started. Just a few piano notes, then what sounded like a gentle, kind of haunting violin joining in. A more emotionally well-adjusted person might have shivered when a female singing wordless vocals joined in; I didn't, of course. It lasted about a minute and a half before tapering off into silence with the vocalist.

I thought that was the end of it and turned around to leave, jerking in place when a skilled piano solo started, going up and down the note scale flawlessly. Then the violin and vocals started again, even more hauntingly, but the piano playing a more active role than before, the rest seeming to pay it complement. The song took a surprisingly rock-and-roll turn when drums started in, the vocals stopping, with occasional notes from the piano. Then the piano started in strong again and the vocalist continued. The violin and drums became center stage, complimented by the piano, when the singer again dropped out. Then it was only the instrumentals, played so well that the voice's loss was barely noticeable. Then near the end, the piano disappeared again.

The music crescendoed with the drums ending almost half a beat before the violin's final note, stopped for a moment, then the piano came in again, ending with a small solo that left a sad feeling after it faded.

I stood still afterward, unable or unwilling to move for a moment. _You'd almost think the music had an impact on me._ I shook my head and felt a tremor go through me that I shrugged off. _Nonsense._

"Thanks for letting me play with you." _that _voice I recognised: Yadonushi.

"It's no problem, you are excellent with the violin. I'm more grateful that I got to sing with you all, since you two usually go off alone to study. And that you let me pick the song." that was the female voice.

"Me as well, I needed to practice." said the second voice I didn't recognise.

"I just felt like it. Don't get used to it, you know I don't like playing the piano much." My eyes widened. _Ishtar!_

"But you play it even better than I." said the still-unknown male voice.

"But I don't _like _it, I only play it because you went through the trouble of teaching me. I prefer other ways of expressing myself." there was a sigh, "Speaking of which, you two have a class to get to in less than ten minutes."

"Yes, we should go. Good bye, Ryou. See you after class, Marik."

I stuck my hands back in my pockets -when had I taken them out?- and walked off down the hallway with a smirk. _So, Ishtar comes this way at least semi-regularly, eh? That's a handy little piece of information... _Plans were already forming in my head of how I could put such a juicy tidbit to best use.

* * *

POV Switch: Marik

* * *

I sighed at the end of the final hour when the bell rang, trudging to my locker. Sometimes (most times, actually) I wished the school day would never end so I would never have to go home. School, with all its bullies, evil teachers, and awful classes, was still infinitely preferable to my home life. It was easier to avoid my sister and limit my exposure to her to nearly only when she was singing; that on its own gained the building points. But the primary reason I never wanted the day to end was because being in school kept me and my siblings away from our father.

I shuddered and Ryou cast me a curious look. I turned away, using my locker door as a shield, and started putting my books in my bag, "Home sweet home."

He winced, "Marik..."

I shook my head and stood up with my bag on my shoulder, "Forget it. Let's just get going." Ryou was the only one aside from my siblings that had any idea (and cared) what my father was like.

Ishizu and Odion were waiting for us outside in the car. A, ahem, _cozy_ thing that, technically speaking, sat four people, so long as they were rather friendly. It was a blaring fire-engine red eye-sore that threatened everyday to just give up and put itself out of everyone's misery, but somehow Odion managed to get it moving each morning. It was technically the family car, but Ishizu didn't use it much, and I was waiting until the day I could finally buy myself a motorcycle as my first thing to drive (that didn't include training vehicles). Also, I didn't want to be the one holding the keys when the thing finally gave up and keeled over.

Ryou and I climbed in the back, our packs squished between our chests and the seats in front of us (there was barely enough room on the floor for our legs). _Which reminds me... _I rifled through my bag and pulled out a sheet from my sketch book, handing it to him, "Here, I finished that drawing you were interested in."

His face lit up when he took it and saw what it was, "Brilliant!"

I smiled, "Glad you think so."

"What are you going to call it?"

"Mm, I'm think maybe something like a 'Dark Necrofear'. I know that the darker and more morbid it is, the better you like it."

"That's true."

I laid my head on my pack and smirked, "Hey, that's why you like me, after all. Nothing much darker or more morbid than my family dynamic."

Ryou frowned and I saw hurt flash in his eyes, "That's not true, Marik."

I winced. _Dammit, will I ever learn when to keep quiet? There I go sticking my foot in my mouth again. I swear the only time I can shut up is when I don't speak at all. _"No, Ryou, I didn't mean it like that. You're my best friend, I was just joking. Obviously not well."

He smiled at me, "It's okay, I understand."

I let out a sigh of relief and waved goodbye when we dropped Ryou off at his place. Ishizu and Odion let me out at the house before taking off, Ishizu to be dropped off at her part-time after-school job, and Odion to his own job down at the docks. My grades didn't give me the option of having any sort of employment during the year, though I'd had one during the summer when we first moved.

The front door was unlocked, partly because we had nothing worth stealing, and partly because Father had broken the locks by throwing Ishizu and I against the door one too many times. She'd taken the top lock off when it got caught in her shirt, and I'd had the honor of hitting the doorknob so hard it partially bent and jammed the lock in the open position.

Bottles, cans, and other miscellaneous and equally dangerous trash littered the floor. Dirty needles had been dropped and ground into the carpet, various drugs had wound up on the floor when vigorous activity had knocked them off whatever surface they were laying on, blood belonging mostly to me and my siblings, and other bodily fluids. If I'd had a choice, I wouldn't even have walked across it in a hazmat suit, but I wasn't going to stand in the doorway and wait for Father to come home.

There was little point in even attempting to clean up the place before the weekend, it only seemed to encourage more filth into existence to fill the space. So long as it was gone by saturday when Father was off and around the house all day, it didn't really matter anyway. He was usually too tired and/or smashed to notice.

I threw my bag in the corner by the hallway and scavenged for something edible in the pantry and fridge. The cupboards were bare of anything but spices, and the fridge only had a roll of hamburger meat, a few sodas, and what was probably cheese in a carton that at one time could have called itself milk. And beer, of course, one mustn't forget the endless bottles and cans of beer. On a whim, I got out the hamburger meat and put it on the counter, fishing a skillet out from under the sink. I let the skillet heat, broke the meat up into it, let it brown a bit, and added a cup or so of water. The hamburger meat we could afford was not the healthy, low-fat kind of hamburger, and there was nearly a half inch of grease in the pan when the meat was finished cooking.

I considered for a moment, then got out a bunch of spices, and the flour from the cupboard. I sniffed each container, going by what flavor profile I wanted in my head, adding things until it looked right (the scientific method of measuring!) since I couldn't exactly taste it without ruining my tongue. I added flour as well, not draining off any of the grease, hoping to turn it into a semi-edible gravy. Hey, we needed the fat. I let it simmer for another few minutes to get the floury taste out, getting out a bowl and more flour in the mean time. I mixed up some flour and water into a batter, got out another pan, poured a little of the 'gravy' into it to grease it, and fried the mixture.

I put some of the meat onto my fried disks, put the lid on the pan, and put the rest of the fried disks into the oven with the skillet of meat so Odion and Ishizu could have something when they came home. And voila: tacos! (Or whatever this particular configuration of spiced meat and flour tortilla was called.) I thought it had turned out pretty tasty, if I did say so myself. I wound up eating four of them, which was lot for me, since I wasn't normally so hungry. I'd had stomach issues for years and felt immediately nauseous if I ate too much (like until I actually felt full).

I cleaned up all evidence I'd been in the kitchen, confident that Ishizu and Odion would put the rest away after they came home and ate, and headed for my bedroom, grabbing my bag on the way. My pet Serket made a clicky sound from inside his tank on top of my 'desk', what had actually been a chest of drawers with the bottom-most drawers removed to make room for my legs when I sat down at it. Serket's modest terrarium took up over half of the space; I was more than a little convinced that his constantly watching me do and check my homework was the reason he was such a smart (odd) creature. Serket just liked me, I supposed, since he let me pick him up and pet him and didn't sting me. I could put him on my shoulder or head, forget he was there, and walk around the house with him (when Father wasn't home, of course), I'd managed to scare the ever loving hell out of Ishizu at least a dozen times by doing just that. I also had a hamster ball that I put him in on occasion to get his exercise.

So it was a little (or alot) weird. What could I say, though? That insect had been my best and only friend for years. I valued him enough that I didn't question our dynamic. And there were several ways I could have, like the fact that I didn't recognize his species, and I knew alot of scorpions, or his odd behavior, or... but I wasn't going to question it.

I pulled out my homework and borrowed his heating lamp to see while I studied. I was finished and snapped it off by the time I heard the front door slam open, flinching despite myself. I remained perfectly still and held my breath, waiting. Nothing good happened when Father got home early. It was usually myself, Ishizu who would walk home from her job just before it got dark, and Odion much later in the evening.

I let out a relieved breath when I heard him stalk past to his room without checking to see if any of us were home. That suggested that he hadn't been drinking, _yet_. He was a scary drunk, because he didn't _act _drunk, even when he was, he just got progressively angrier and more irritable. He didn't slur his words, or sway on his feet, it just seemed to give his evil side complete free rein. It was a given that there was a certain amount of controlling temper waiting to be unleashed that came with the excised former leader of a devout religious sect that he had been raised all his life to order around. But there was something in him beyond even all that plus being a violent drunk who cleaved to the Old Scriptures...

Or maybe it was just living my entire life under his thumb that had warped my perceptions and made me paranoid. That, too, was a possibility.

I sighed and flopped face-down on my bed, exhausted.

I woke up at the slightest sound of my bedroom door opening and looked up sleepily, not realizing I'd even fallen asleep 'til I'd woken up, "Odion?"

He smiled at me, "Thank you for making dinner."

I smiled back and closed my eyes again, "Mmm-hmm, glad you liked it."

"Marik?"

"Hmm?"

"You should change for bed, and it might be more comfortable _under _the covers."

I yawned, not hearing even half of whatever he'd just said, "Uh-huh."

I was already drifting off again when I felt myself being picked for a moment and put back down. I snuggled my face into my pillow and warmth enveloped me. I felt Odion brush my hair away from my face, "Good night, Marik."

I yawned again, "Mmr, night, big brother." the last thing I remember was hearing the click of the door closing.

* * *

Chapter one Friday

* * *

Ryou got to school on his own, normally waiting for me by the front doors, which was probably a bad idea as it made us easy targets for pranks that would otherwise be detention/suspension-worthy in the halls. He wasn't there and I looked around, worried for him. Ryou was never late, ever.

When I found him, he was being subjected to one of those pranks by (who else?) Bakura's gang. I found him among the throngs of milling students, over by the fence under the trees, pushed up against the fencing with his backpack opened and papers scattered across the ground. I pushed through the crowds to get to my best friend, some people intentionally bumping me and others getting out of my way when they saw me coming. I broke out of the student body and almost fell on my face as someone shoved me from behind.

Ryou looked ready to cry, and I saw right away the reason for it: torn in pieces on the ground was the picture I'd drawn for him. It didn't affect me much personally; I made hundreds of drawings and sketches, but I'd made that one just for Ryou and he'd cherished it. Bakura, Malice, and Thief moved out of the way to see what I would do as I approached Ryou and knelt on the ground. I started gathering up the various papers and notebooks, handing them to him without looking, "What happened, Ryou?" I whispered.

He took the things from me and stuffed them in his pack without concern for their state, voice just as quiet, "Thief tried to take my backpack and string it up in the tree. I held onto it by one of the zipper tassels, and then things just went everywhere. Then Malice saw my picture and tried to take it from me, but I didn't want him to steal it, so I grabbed it and..."

"It ripped. Don't cry, Ryou, I can make you another one."

He shook his head and discreetly wiped his face, "It's not the point."

I looked down, "No, it's not." I picked up the pieces and handed them to him, "But they'll just hit harder if you let them know they got to you."

Ryou put everything back in his bag, stood up with it slung over his shoulder, and slunk away through the students with his head down, "Excuse me."

It hurt to see Ryou so sad, then I saw the trio responsible standing there smirking and felt hot anger flare to life. What had standing up for myself ever gotten me except for a more complete beating? Attempting to protect others had only backfired even more disastrously, but Ryou was my best friend, and they had hurt him. I was mad, and I couldn't just let it go, not this time, but attacking head on wasn't going to get me anywhere. I stood up with my back straightened, hand clenched around the strap of my own pack, and decided to see if I could hit them where it would hurt the most: their pride.

I stalked up to Bakura, invading his personal space and staring fearlessly up into his eyes, more than close enough to highlight the differences between us for everyone to see. His crossed arms made his bountiful muscle mass obvious through his uniform, when nearly everyone knew my slender build. I was eye-level with the base of his throat, Bakura towering just slightly over an entire head taller, smirking down at me. I stared expressionlessly, "Do Ryou and I intimidate you?"

He scoffed, "Hardly."

"Are you afraid of us?"

"I could break you in half with one hand tied behind my back."

"Probably more than that. You're stronger than us, Bakura; all three of you: stronger, taller, maybe faster than Ryou and myself, certainly more dangerous. Each of you has probably fifty pounds on us."

He shifted and frowned at me, sensing something behind my words but seemingly unable to puzzle out what, "Your point?"

"We are no threat to you at all, in anything. We are the bottom rung of the ladder. Why do you feel the need to push us lower? Are you so insecure with yourselves that you have to pick on those that can't fight back? Would breaking me make you feel stronger? More powerful? I could probably try to tackle you to the ground and have you not even notice."

He grabbed me by the collar of my uniform and lifted me to my tiptoes, leaning down until we were face to face, "You just haven't learned your place yet, have you? It's kneeling at my feet. You _still _haven't figured it out: _never_ oppose me, or I will crush you."

"I'm not afraid of you, Bakura. If you really feel the need to crush me, to break me, I invite you to try. Others have made the attempt, others far more intimidating than you. You may make some of the other students tremble, but you don't scare _me._ Now put me down, the bell's about to ring."

He glared venomously at me for several seconds, until the bell rang, then threw me so I landed on my back with a huff of all my breath leaving my lungs, stalking away with Malice and Thief flanking him. I glanced up in surprise at Ryou leaning over me to help me up. I groaned as he helped pull me back to my feet, "That was a very foolish thing to do, Marik."

_Yes, it was._ And yet, for some reason, my body was buzzing and I found myself grinning at my friend, "Yeah, but every tiger needs poked with a stick on occasion, don't they?"

He shook his head and smiled back at me, "You're bloody loony, you know that? Come on, let's get to class." I was still smiling when Professor Medusa glared at us and handed out our tardy slips.

* * *

I was tense with anxiety for the rest of the day after Titus dragged Ryou and I through the halls by our hair when we were late, tossing us through the classroom doorway with no warning when we'd gotten there. Ryou and I had only each other to try and steady ourselves, and only managed to overbalance each other, crashing to the floor gracelessly. I had a nasty bruise on my elbow, examining it at our usual lunch table for two, "Sorry about your thigh."

Ryou shook his head, "Nonsense, sorry about your shoulder."

I shrugged, grimacing at the soreness from my left shoulderblade where Ryou had tried to catch himself, shoving me into the floor, "I'm well enough. Dark skin is rather good at hiding bruises, unlike your own fair complexion. Your cheek has some rather spectacular colors, by the way." what yesterday had been only red and slightly darker was today glorious purple and blue.

Ryou stared at me incredulously, "Uh, Marik."

I glanced up from the inspection of my elbow again, "Hmm?"

"There's a disembodied arm waving our way from the hall."

"Huh?" I turned around to see exactly that, a pale arm waving from the hall. I recognized that arm... I sighed, "Save my spot, I'll be right back."

I pushed up from our table, warily looking around for the troublemakers and not seeing them, I headed for the hallway. The arm that had been waving was instantly around my shoulders and gone just as quickly at my wince, "There's my favorite artist! What happened to you?"

"I fell."

"Organically, or with help?"

I sighed and gave him a reproachful look, he knew I didn't like talking about myself, "What did you need, Alister? What are you even doing at my school?"

The redhead put his hands up in surrender, "Alright, then, I'll shut up. I just came by to see if you maybe had any good sketches for me."

"You mean you came to ogle your wannabe boyfriend, Kaiba."

His cheeks flushed, "I'm here on a mission, scout's honor."

I snorted, "You were never any kind of scout." I looked around the empty hall, "I'm surprised Valon isn't here to sneak a glance at Joey." Alister's face darkened even more and I smirked up at him, "Unless... he's already gotten his perv on today. Just how long have you been out here 'waiting for me'?"

He coughed, "It's, uh, been a bit."

I raised an eyebrow at him, " 'A bit' like, a few hours 'bit'?"

"Something like that..."

"Ahhhh, I see. Valon find an empty classroom where he could properly stare down at Joey and his group eating outside?"

"Maybe..."

I smiled, "And you came looking for me only after failing to find Kaiba."

He held his hands up again, "We really _were_ sent here to see if you had anything ready for us."

"But there's nothing wrong with multi-tasking, right?" I shook my head, "Kaiba rarely eats outside, and he doesn't show up in the cafeteria much, either. If you're really looking for him, he's usually in the third-floor science room with his brothers since it's his first class after lunch. You might find him there." Alister's face lit up and he turned to go until I called him, "Uh, Alister?"

He turned back, "Yeah?"

"My sketches?"

He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, "Right."

I snickered and shook my head, "Forget it, I only have my current sketchbook with me at the moment. Ryou and I have plans tomorrow, so I'll stop by and drop them off afterward."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver."

"You mean an ass-saver. Raphael would beat you if you'd gone back with some half-made excuse."

He winked at me, "Nah, not our Raph, he's even worse. He'd look at us, shake his head, and tell us how disappointed he was in us."

"Oh, the horror." I said tonelessly.

He nodded, "I know."

I smiled and waved him off, "Well, good luck with your stalking."

"Anonymous admiring!"

"Stalking!" I got the last word in just as I went back into the cafeteria.

I sat down next to Ryou and told him about the whole encounter, the two of us snickering over Alister and Valon's crushes. My anxiety returned when we started out for Chemistry. It was the last day of the week, and Bakura and the others had yet to hit either of us with one of their at-least-once-a-week day-altering pranks. The tomato from yesterday didn't count anywhere close to big enough to qualify. These were the same people that had snuck into the girls' locker room, stolen their underwear and bras, broke into the school trophy case, and swapped said objects. The same students that had vandalized the school sign so that we went 'Do-A-ho' Academy for three days until the staff managed to get it cleaned off. A bad tomato to the back of the head was child's play.

There was rarely a week that went by when Ryou and I weren't hit with something that meant we had to walk home so we didn't ruin the inside of Odion's car. There was the time we had been tarred and feathered with honey and pillow down, and the time we'd had tye-dyed hair for a week because we'd been paintballed with food coloring... Point being, given what I'd done this morning, I was in for it, and in for it bad. _I wonder if I'll be hanging out another window sometime within the next few hours._

* * *

POV Switch: Bakura

* * *

I'd seethed in silent fury as I watched the back of Ishtar's head. He'd seemed to get more tense with every passing moment I didn't strike. I'd left him alone, not bumping his chair the whole class, and he was wound tighter than a spring because of it. When the bell rang, I waited by the door and held my arm out like an old fashioned gentleman, "After you."

He stared up at me warily before inching past me. I bared my teeth, he didn't seem to mistake it for a smile.

Now I heard him coming up the stairs. It was time to strike. I was going to get a reaction out of him today. I listened to him round the corner and walk down the hall, coming around my own at the opposite end of the hall. He saw me and turned around only to see Thief blocking any exit the way he'd come from. Thief herded him backwards toward me, I opened the door to the supply closet we'd already picked the lock open to, my cousin pushed him so he went tumbling inside, and I followed with the door closing behind me.

My keen hearing picked up the sound of tumblers being moved behind me and I turned around, "Thief."

I heard him snickering through the door, "Sorry, but I've got somewhere to be. See you later!"

I tried to turn the knob and smashed my fist against the door, "Thief!" _Dammit!_ He was only supposed to guard the door from the outside, not lock me in a room with Ishtar! I'd specifically chosen this closet in this hallway because it was on Ishtar's route and often overlooked or ignored. The chances of someone besides Thief letting me out were nonexistent. I kicked the door with all my strength, "Bugger!"

Ishtar picked himself up off the floor and stared at me, "Even your own 'friends' turn on you."

I spun on him and shoved him, he flew backwards into a set of steel shelves that rattled ominously, crumpling to the ground and covering his head as things fell. I stomped over and pulled him up by his collar, slamming him back against the shelves again, "You say something?"

"Your friends lack loyalty."

The little idiot really never learned when the hell to shut up! I snarled and tossed him again, sending him careening into the wall between the shelves surrounding us. I went over and picked him up by the throat, above his three gold necklaces, holding him on his toes. I saw it in his eyes for a moment before he hid it: the fear, and a rush went through me followed by anger at how easily he seemed to hide it. I raised him higher. His hand grabbed my wrist, but he didn't dig his nails in or try to push me away, "You never know when to shut up. If you keep going, I may just have to fix it so you stay quiet. Maybe cutting out your tongue." I pressed harder, "Or just crushing your voice box. Which do you think?"

He shuddered, but I still didn't see it in his lilac eyes again. I pulled him forward and smacked his head back against the wall, and he closed his eyes in pain. I snarled, "Look at me!" his eyes snapped open and I watched them as I pressed on his throat harder and harder, watching his pupils change size and his face twist. I glared at him, "Are you scared yet, Ishtar?"

His eyelids fluttered and I felt his fingers go slack on my wrist. I set him down without releasing him and he gasped for air. I moved like I was going to turn away, then punched him on the cheek. He crashed hard into the shelves and they rattled, things falling on the floor. He grabbed them to keep from falling, there was a sound of something ripping, and the entire steel structure started toppling over.

* * *

POV Switch: Marik

* * *

He looked at me like an insect squirming under a microscope, cutting off my air just to see what my reaction would be. The side of my face exploded with pain and I landed against the shelving unit, automatically trying to keep myself from falling. I glanced up when I felt the structure give way and start toppling. It weighed at least eight hundred pounds with everything on it! If I curled into a ball, I _might _be able to slip between the gap on the bottom shelf, but every shelf on the top half was filled to capacity and set to land directly on my tormentor.

There was no hesitation, no decision, just instinct. I was about to see if I'd been right earlier. I threw myself forward, "Bakura!" I tackled him around his middle and we both went sprawling as a deafening crash split the air behind me and shook the floor.

Wait, actually, maybe that was me shaking. I peeked open my eyes to see the door above our heads, Bakura propped against it, staring behind me with his mouth agape. The brightness in the room dimmed as the ceiling light shattered from the shelves falling, leaving the only source of light what was coming in from the outer hallway. I looked and saw the shelves on the floor, less than half a foot from my feet, boxes and other things scattered around us. Chalk rolled around our legs from a top-shelf box that would have hit him if I'd curled up on the floor to avoid the fall.

I unwound my arms from his stomach and scooted away, leaning against the wall beside the second of the three sets of shelves. If the room were three feet shorter from front to back, there'd have been no escape. If one of the other two shelves on the shorter walls had fallen, they'd have lost everything on them, but the unit itself would have caught on the other one. I hugged my knees to my chest and tried to slow my breathing. We had almost died. There had been far too much luck involved in our survival.

* * *

POV Switch: Bakura

* * *

I couldn't stop staring. A huge box of chalk, solid stone, would have hit me if Ishtar hadn't pushed me out of the way. It didn't make any sense. Why had he done it? What was his game? I shook my head and looked over at him where he was curled up next to one of the standing shelves, "Are you _insane_?!"

He flinched, glanced up at me briefly and shrugged, "Probably." it wasn't said snidely, like the kind of response I'd have gotten from Thief or Malice if I'd asked them the same question. He sounded like it might have been true, or maybe not, and it didn't matter to him either way. The hair on the back of my neck raised. He looked over at the mess and shuddered, "It's not a very big room."

I shook off my discomfort and raised a brow at the obvious statement, "It's a supply closet, not a wardrobe leading to a mystical alternate dimension."

"Shame, I could use a vacation." he quipped, then became serious again, "If it had been any smaller, we'd be dead right now."

"Three minutes ago, technically." I went to stand up and groaned, "So much for me not noticing you tackle me." it felt like I'd bruised a couple of ribs, maybe even cracked one.

He peeked over at me again, "There are times where it's better to be wrong than it is to be right."

"This changes nothing, got it?"

He nodded and looked away, "I didn't think it would."

We sat in silence for over an hour. I kept looking over at Ishtar, but he never looked up from the floor between his feet. My long-dead conscience tried to prod at me, but dammit, I wasn't feeling guilty! The shelf never would have fallen for if it weren't for his high-and-mighty attitude in the first place!

Yeah... I was able to convince myself for all of ten minutes with that argument. But no matter how much anger I threw at him, he just accepted it without fighting back, and that pissed me off more than if he'd told me to bugger off. It annoyed me, "Why don't you ever fight back? You stand up when I push Yadonushi around, but nothing ever seems to faze you!"

I glared at him as he looked up at me in shock, "You'd just push back even harder. I tried to go after your pride, it almost got me strangled." the corner of his mouth lifted as he looked away, "It was fun, though. Like poking an angry tiger with a stick."

I laughed at being compared to a deadly hunting animal, "Roar. So you got away with it once, are you going to poke me again?"

He glanced over at me, "I'm not afraid of you. I knew you would do something big to get back at me for it but... it felt good."

I smirked, "Makes you feel alive to know you're doing something that has the potential to kill you."

"Maybe that's it." We descended into silence again. The bell announcing the end of the last class rang, all that was left was detention and the school would be empty. Ishtar looked at the door behind me, "Is there anyone you can call to get us out of here?"

I shook my head, "No reception in here, it's one of the reasons I chose it."

"I don't have a cell phone anyway."

"Well, that would have been handy to know three hours ago when I was planning this."

We were quiet again for a while, but I was actually rather thankful it didn't last, "Do you think we'll get out?"

"Thief's bound to come back at some point." It was just a matter of when that 'some point' _was. _Since there was no keyhole on this side of the door -just a smooth knob- I couldn't pick the lock to our little prison.

Silence once again engulfed the room for uncountable minutes, or at least, I didn't feel like counting them. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"What?"

"People always seem to get uncomfortable staring at my eyes. I was wondering if you could tell me why."

I stared at him, "What do you see in mine?"

"Right now, confusion. Your brow is furrowed, but you aren't glaring. Usually, hatred and anger. You're angry alot."

"Every time I look at you." I ground out. All he had to do was open his mouth and I was already thoroughly ticked off again! I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a sigh.

"My eyes?"

I looked back over at him and considered my answer for several minutes before replying, "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

I nodded, "You show nothing. It's what makes you so annoying. You get pushed, you get pranked, you get hung from your ankles, and none of it shows in your eyes. You really _aren't _afraid, and it pisses people-" _Like me._ "-off. Books slapped from your hands, reports stolen, shoved into walls; you just take it all, sigh, and go on with your day. Your expression almost never changes."

"Oh."

I was on too much of a roll to stop there, "When your desk gets kicked, or someone bumps into you, or makes you look at them; you don't look afraid, or apprehensive. Like you don't really give a fuck what they want, just so that they get it over with already so you go on your merry little way."

He tried to say something but I ran over top of it, fully invested in my rant now, "You have this _infuriating_ self-righteous aura around you that absolutely nothing could possibly be important enough to acknowledge with a normal freaking _human_ response!" I ended my tirade, panting, and looked to see him staring wide-eyed at me, blinking. I huffed and looked away, "Your eyes are just... empty. Like-"

"A dark pool you can't see the bottom of, or guess at what might be swimming within? That's what Ryou said when I asked him."

That was a disturbing set of imagery, if somewhat accurate. I grunted noncommittally. Did this kid respond normally to _anything?_ Then again, I had to admit I was impressed my punch hadn't put him down. When I cold cocked someone like that, they had a tendency to go down and stay down. Thief and Malice had been the only exceptions so far. _And now Ishtar._

We were both quiet for a long time after that, time I spent imagining how I was going to get Thief back for this little trick. I had pretty well decided on locking him in a coffin, sitting on top of it and listening to him bitch for hours on end, when the final bell of the day rang.

We were about to be left alone in a school closet. On a friday. With no one but my cousin knowing where we were. _Bugger._ I suppose if I were anyone else, I'd take this as a sign of what my wickedness could bring upon myself, reflect on my past wrongdoings, and promise to change my ways.

I snorted. _Right. _All that I decided was the need for better and more thorough planning in the future, with multiple escape routes. And for doors that had locks on both sides.

* * *

**Please read this notice! It's come to my attention (yesterday) that this chapter didn't upload right. This is my fault for trying the download option instead of my usual copy/paste method (But I _hate_ having to un-italisize and re-italisize everything! T-T) but I will be going back to the surer way of getting my docs up. That said, the entire chapter has been re-re-edited and I promise there are no errors (via my spell-check and a thorough read-through)! If you've read this chapter previously and some things didn't make sense or you thought words were missing/squished together, that should be fixed now if you'd care to reread it. Thank you for your patience! (Special thanks to: YamiBakura1988 , 13579Marik , and LadySunami for their kind reviews even on the compromized chapter!) The next chapter should be coming out (of the closet! lol) thursday. **

**P.S. Figured out what the problem was: Stupid ffn autoedit! I wasn't trying to put in a website domain! Cautionary word to other authors out there: Watch your periods!**

**Ja ne!**


	2. Chapter 2

Odion and Ryou were going to be worried sick about me. They were likely to start a search party, maybe even two, and neither were going to be able to find me. I heard the distinctly loud set of 'clicks' that meant the lights were being shut off. The ambient glow lighting up our supply closet from the top and bottom of the door went out and plunged us into darkness.

It reminded me of the tomb back in Egypt, the feel of close-together walls, the darkness of extinguished candles, the dusty scent of a passage that hadn't been swept out in a while. But there were things marring the illusion as well: that the wall behind me and the floor under me weren't stone that had been meticulously built block-by-block thousands of years ago, the smell of cleaning chemicals that scented the air had never tainted the ancient atmosphere of the tomb, and even the darkness wasn't the all-consuming black that swallowed hallways and rooms that hadn't been touched by sunlight in the millennia since their creation.

Whether I'd wanted it or not, I was the heir to the distinguished Tomb Keeper line of Egypt, guardians to the secrets of the Pharaohs and the Priests of the Gods. I felt the weight of all those thousands of years of tradition heavily on my shoulders, but there was pride in it, too; in spite of my father and our excisism for whatever he'd done to shame or infuriate the Priests. Odion and I knew things, secrets, that people would kill for, would die for; that were carved on our bodies.

After what had to be at least another hour, I was brought excitedly out of my thoughts at a wonderful sound, standing up and working my way over to press my ear against the door, "Do you hear that?"

I heard Bakura stand up as well, "Hear what?" his accent seemed a bit thicker in the darkness.

"I think someone's coming this way!"

"Shh!" I was quiet, assuming he was listening to the door as well, "I think you're right." his voice sounded as excited as mine, "How much noise do you think you can make?"

"As much as necessary to get out of here."

I jumped back at a bang, then realized he'd kicked the door to make more racket. I started pounding on it with my hands, "Hey! Help us! We're trapped! Hellooooo!"

"Get us the bloody hell out of here! Open the damn door!"

Desperate, I cupped my hands around my mouth, "Marco!"

Bakura stopped and I was grateful for the darkness, getting the feeling he was looking at me incredulously, "Really? Marco?"

I felt my cheeks heating, "Hey, whatever works, right?"

There was air movement (shaking his head?) and he sighed, "It's a wonder you aren't picked on _more_."

My face felt like it was ready to melt and I scowled ineffectually (it probably wouldn't have worked in the light, either, given who I was making faces at), "Can we get back to trying to get out of here? Whoever's out there might be getting further away."

"Right." there was a pause (did he roll his eyes? I would have if I were having a conversation like this with Ishizu. Given his impassioned rant, I could probably safely figure I was at least that annoying in his eyes) and he went back to shouting, "Hey!"

"In here!"

We both froze as a white light appeared under the edge of the door. We panted to get our breath back from all the yelling, sharing surprised (or I was surprised anyway) smiles of victory that were barely visible in the dim lighting. The sound of the lock turning was like the feeling I got when I'd answered a question I wasn't certain of only to have Ryou beam at me and shout 'correct!' during our study sessions.

I winced and held my hand in front of my eyes as the door opened and the light blinded me. The light lowered to the floor and I saw that was a very bright white flashlight being held by a woman in a sky blue traditional kimono with a big red bow in the back that was visible from every angle, her blue hair up in an intricate style with decorations in the back. I beamed widely, "Principal Utuskushii!"

She gave a small, demure smile back, "Marik." the light swung to my left, "And Bakura as well." then it settled between us and her lips twitched, "Well, it appears you two had some fun in here. The janitors are not going to be happy about this." not that that was a large concern of hers; the Principal and janitors got into arguments _alot_.

Bakura's voice sounded sneerier (I was pretty sure that wasn't an actual word, but it fit) than it had when we were alone, "Oh, yeah, loads of... _fun_."

My gaze narrowed as the light was once again swung my way, blinking as it was moved over to Bakura and I saw him wincing as he held his side. She frowned, "So it seems." _Oh, she must have been looking at my cheek from where I'd been punched. _It did feel kind of swollen, and Bakura seemed rather uncomfortable.

I shifted and looked back at the, er, mess, that we'd made, "Sorry."

She moved out of the way, "Would you boys like to come out of the closet now?"

I choked my snicker down to a short, scoff-like sound, "Little late for me on that, but it'd be nice to get out of this particular one, yes."

I saw Bakura scowling blackly and hurried from the room, standing on our principal's other side and shamelessly using her as a shield, just in case he decided to throttle me again. I wasn't _afraid_, per se, but one strangling already today was enough to have me cautious of his temper.

Bakura came up on her other side and she took a step forward, looking at us over her shoulder, "Let's take this to my office." that wasn't the suggestion it sounded like; it was an order. I was suddenly less enthusiastic about being rescued, letting distance develop between us before starting to follow her. Maybe being near Bakura wasn't so bad after all...

The principal could be very scary when she wanted to be, and her punishments were legendary. Her odd sense of justice included having a male student that had graffitied 'fag' across another student's locker (surprisingly neither mine nor Ryou's) go through the entire school day in white tights, with a rainbow tutu included. That student still couldn't go an entire week without somebody snickeringly calling him Sailor Moon.

There were rumors of even more radical punishments, too. Like a student that had made a mess of the Art Class' supplies being the subject of naked modeling week, but I wasn't sure I believed that one. It seemed like a legal escapade-in-the-making and I didn't think the school would go through the hassle. Still, the rumors alone were scary enough, and given what was known of _actual_ acknowledged punishments, nothing seemed impossible.

I had the theory our esteemed principal had been someone very much like Bakura in her highschool years.

We followed Principal Utuskushii through the halls to her office. Her name meant 'Beautiful' in Japanese, and I was uncertain if it was a nickname or her given one. Most people called her the Headhuntress because her actual title was technically 'Headmistress' (though she insisted on 'Principal') and of her unique approach to discipline.

She sat down behind the desk, threaded her fingers together and looked at us over them, "Now, Marik, I know you like to have a little fun..."

It took all my control not to scoff or burst out laughing. She wasn't only the principal, she taught the knife skills of the cooking portion of my Home Ec class, where she was known as Professor Kirei (another Japanese word for beautiful, which I found mildly disturbing). Said class being the same one whose window I was hung out of on my first day and that I was blamed for. 'Fun' would not have been my word of choice, but the evidence was stacked against me, marking me as an off-and-on troublemaker along with Ryou.

"And some harmless pranks help keep the janitorial staff on their toes, but students fighting is going entirely too far." she seemed to be waiting for one of us to say something.

What could I have said? 'No, we weren't fighting, I was getting beaten; the two are completely different things. He's just in pain because I tackled him to save his life, honestly.' _Right._ Somehow I didn't think that explanation was going to hold.

She sighed and reached into a drawer, getting up and coming around the desk to stand in front of us, "Both of you, put your hands out." we held them out for what I guessed was her inspection. My hands were clear, though the backs of Bakura's were a little scuffed from hitting me. Then without warning, she pulled her hand out of her pocket and there was a series of little clicking sounds.

I stared down in shock at my left wrist and the new cuff it bore. Bakura immediately tried to rid himself of it, "What the hell is this?!"

Principal Utuskushii stared down at us sternly, "I can't have students fighting in my school. Maybe you two will learn to grow more tolerant of each other if you're forced to spend time together."

She'd _handcuffed_ us together! I staggered off balance as Bakura jerked his arm away and almost crashed into him, "Bakura! Ow."

He winced and rubbed his wrist, "Ah! Dammit." The chain between us was very long by handcuff standards, about three feet, like a prison inmate's. But it was _way_ too short given the space we'd both rather put between us after being locked in a closet all afternoon with only each other for company.

My mind whirled into a panic at what having Bakura with me constantly would mean in relation to my life. Principal Utuskushii put her hand to my forehead, so I guess I must have suddenly looked sick, "Oh, don't worry so much, it's only until Monday."

I shook my head, "W-what about bathroom visits? Bathing? Our families?"

"You're both boys, I'm fairly sure neither of you has anything the other hasn't seen before on himself." I thought about my back. _Would you like to bet on that?_ "You'll just have to explain to your families that this is your punishment. And as for bathing since you won't be able to take your tops off with those on... Well, I suggest refraining from doing anything very strenuous this weekend."

_Oh, Gods, Father's going to kill us both._ "Is there anything about this in the rule book?"

Principal Utuskushii smiled creepily, "Oh, when have I ever let the rules get in the way? Besides, no one reads those things anyway."

I was getting desperate, but Bakura spoke before I could, asking almost the exact question I would have (albeit more calmly), "Is this even _legal_?"

"Possibly."

I was about to come up with another argument when Bakura scoffed and turned away, dragging me with him, "Forget it, let's just get the hell out of here."

I slumped in defeat and followed him out, wishing we'd just been left in the closet. We probably would have figured something out eventually. With all the things in there, maybe we could have worked the bolts out and broken the door down. Or Bakura was a self-admitted thief and I was good at squeezing into small places, maybe we could have gone through a ventilation duct or something. _Hindsight is ever perfect._

I turned when I heard the door closing again, my curiosity flaring, "Um, Principal Utuskushii?"

She turned, "Yes, Marik?"

"Why were you roaming the halls after school anyway?"

She smiled, "That's simple. I've been doing it for safety reasons ever since a certain student got stuck up on the roof all night."

I blushed and turned away to see Bakura smirking, "Oh." that student had been me, of course; Bakura had locked me on the roof with a hurricane coming in that night. She went the opposite way as Bakura took us (to continue her patrol?) and I struggled to keep up, "Slow down, would you? I have shorter legs than you do."

"You've cost me enough time today."

My indignation flared instantly, and I froze in place, making him stop as well, "Me?! _I_ cost _you_ time? You threw me in a closet to beat me without witnesses! You tried to strangle me! You threw me across the room into a set of steel shelves that almost killed us both! _You_ did all that, not me! Take a look in the mirror, Bakura, there's the one who's cost you all your time!"

"Shut up."

"No! I'm tired of being your scape goat, of taking the heat for whatever you don't feel like admitting to that day. I may not be able to keep you from framing me in front of others, but _damned_ if I'll let you try and toss blame on me when you and I are the only ones who were there!"

He turned around in a flash, grabbed my arm, and twisted it up behind me, pulling his other arm across my body to make our chain dig into my neck, "I _said_: Shut. Up."

I glared up at him and forced my words out past the block, "And I... say... fuck. You."

He growled and shoved me forward, not grasping the implications quickly enough as I fell and jerked him forward, too. His head hit against the wall while I tried to catch myself with my hands, "Sonofabitch!"

I shook my head and muttered, "We're going to end up amputated from the wrist down at this rate." I got up and held out my hand to help him stand, "Are you _done_ being a jackass yet, or would you maybe like to toss us down a flight of stairs next?"

He smacked my hand away and stood up on his own, "You never know when to shut up, do you?"

"No, I apparently didn't get that gene. It's something you're just going to have to deal with over the next two days: I'm honest to a fault, and I have issues keeping my opinions silently."

"You're going to end up with alot of bruises during the next two days."

"Hmph. If you're going to hit me every time I tell you something you don't like about yourself, maybe I'm not the one that needs to change. My keeping quiet about your faults doesn't mean you don't have them."

"Do you _ever _shut up?"

"Only when I don't talk at all. And I'm not spending the whole weekend in silence."

He scoffed and body bumped me, "Fine, maybe not _every_ time you talk; I need to conserve my energy."

I rolled my eyes and followed him, "We need to stop by locker sixteen-two so I can get my things."

"Whatever."

"...Aren't you taking anything?"

"No."

I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head. It was immature and juvenile, and so very satisfying. I caught up to him and looked down at our cuffs, "You wouldn't happen to be able to pick these open, would you?"

"Look again, genius. There's no keyhole."

"What?" I held my wrist up to get a good look. He was right, there was no keyhole, but a set of five dials: it was a combination lock, "...There was way too much thought put into chaining us together."

"You're the math savant: how many possible combinations are there?"

I did the calculations almost instantly, talking it out as I went, "The number of places times the number of choices per place. Five places times ten numbers: a hundred-thousand possibilities minus one since it's already on all zeros and still locked. Twice that if they're both different. That's one-hundred and ninety-nine-thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-eight possible combinations left."

He looked down at me in surprise, "Could you crack that?"

I nodded, "I could, eventually."

"How long would it take?"

Given my absolute best code-cracking time: "Next... thursday."

He sighed, "Just great. I guess that means I'm stuck with you."

"Right, stuck with _me_, because you're just a shining ray of joy to be around." I paused to think of any other possible solutions, "I don't suppose you have any bolt-cutters?"

"Nope, they got knicked the last time I broke into the equipment shed."

I sighed, "Fantastic." We made it to my locker and I stared at him, "Turn around."

"What?"

"I'm not letting you see my locker combo. With as much as I've aggravated you today? Who knows what horror you'd come up with to stuff in it when we finally get separated? Turn around."

He rolled his eyes and turned his back on me, "Just get on with it."

I got out my bag and all my books and closed my locker with a sigh, "I'm ready." _I guess._

"Then let's get the hell gone already."

It was going to be a very long weekend, and it hadn't even started yet. I could see it already, Ishizu lecturing me when she got in, even though it _wasn't my fault_(!) and Odion fretting about us being stuck together and alternatingly glaring at Bakura from hearing the stories of my torments.

Bakura was sure to comment on the state of the house, which would put Ishizu even more on edge, even though I was prone to agreeing that the house was a complete wreck, and Odion would sigh and shake his head probably right up until the first time Bakura called my sister a bitch (which I saw as inevitable) and our brother was forced to restrain her.

Oh, yes, the fun was imminent.

My shoulders were slumped as I followed him out the front doors of the school. My attention was brutally brought back to the present when I heard the sound of something clanging above us and heard him shout, "Thief, no!"

I closed my eyes and tensed, knowing that two things were about to happen: I was about to get hit with something unavoidable, and it was going to be very unpleasant.

I didn't count on Bakura's reaction and our connection to each other, though. He dove out of the way and I felt my arm nearly ripped from it's socket as I was thrown left with him and heard something splash behind me. But all my attention was in front of me, on the flights upon flights of steps that Bakura and I were about to fall down.

He hadn't thought about our cuffs either, and my weight had jerked his dive off course, making him stumble and start falling, right down the steps. I saw a flash of us lying broken and bloodied at the bottom of the seven tiers as I once again felt myself yanked forward off my feet.

I opened my mouth to scream when it felt like _both_ of my arms came out of their sockets and we jerked to a stop. I groaned in pain and looked back to see that my backpack's other strap had caught on the handrail going up the middle of the steps and miraculously held our combined weight.

Bakura picked himself up from his ungraceful sprawl under the rail, panting, "D-dammit."

My heart tried to hammer itself out of my chest as I sat down and laid back on the steps, "I-I was only kidding ab-bout the stairs, you know." _Oh, Ra, that was too close!_

Bakura flopped next to me, "I'll keep that in mind next time."

"Just a thought, but maybe I should drive given that that's the second time you've nearly _killed us!_"

"I didn't think Thief would still set the prank after locking us in the closet!"

"Twice!"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, quit bitching."

Deadly cobras, poisonous scorpions, beatings on a bi-weekly basis at the least, and _Bakura_ was the greatest danger to my life. What kind of irony was that? "I'm still walking in front."

"Whatever. I don't know where you live anyway."

"Why are you so willing to go to my house, anyhow?"

"Because I'm _not_ taking you to my place."

I should have been relieved, this would get me to my place quickly and without argument so I could start cleaning. But Bakura knew the exact _wrong_ things to say to bring my seldom-seen temper right to the surface, and he was saying all of them. I glared at him, "What, afraid you'll get my cooties on things?"

"Drop it, unless you want another bruise."

"Whatever." _Gods, he's already rubbing off on me. _I picked myself up and winced at the soreness in my shoulders, unhooking my bag's strap from the rail and catching sight of some kind of green slime at the top of the stairs, "Do I even want to know what we were almost covered in?"

Bakura got up and dusted off his knees, "I doubt it." he glared up at the slime, and started muttering, "Even if he set up the prank, I thought he'd be here to set it off, not just make a trigger."

I felt a headache start in my temples and spread to join with the pain at the back of my head from the several times I'd been slammed back into a wall. I held in my sigh, feeling I'd done enough of that today, "Let's just go. We've got a fair walk ahead of us and I have alot of chores to do." Our walk was thankfully done in silence and my headache faded somewhat by the time we got to the house. I paused at the front door and stared straight ahead, "...I'd suggest not taking your shoes off. And watch out for, um, broken glass and metal shards."

" 'Metal shards'?"

I stared down at my hand on the knob and felt myself blushing, "Like, needles and things." I turned the handle and let the door swing open. I went in first and tossed my bag towards the hallway. I could tell immediately that the house was empty and let out a relieved breath.

Bakura followed me in and closed the door behind him, looking around and raising an eyebrow, "This place is a mess."

I copied his expression, "That's probably the nicest thing that's been said about it." Figuring my first order of business was to stem the panic I'd been the cause of, I walked over to the phone and started dialing.

"Hello?" a perky female voice answered.

"Hello. I'd like to leave a message for one of your workers to pick up during their break."

"Sure. What message?"

"For Odion Ishtar. I'm his little brother, Marik Ishtar. Could you please tell him that I just got delayed after school, but that I'm home now and... safe." my mind went to my swollen cheek, aching throat, my shoulders, and the fury Father was sure to unleash when he came home and saw that I'd brought a total stranger in the house because I was chained to him. _Well, safety is a relative thing._ So I wasn't lying, exactly. At least I wasn't dead in a ditch like he probably half-feared. _It was a close call, though._

"Sure thing. Is that all?"

"Yes, thank you. Good bye."

"Bye, sweety."

I hit the end button and made a face at the handset. I'd have called Ishizu, but the convenience store was so small it didn't have a phone, or at least not anymore. I considered not making my next call until later, then regretted the thought and dialed anyway, "Hello?"

I took a breath and prepared for my verbal flogging, "Ryou."

"Marik! Where are you? Are you okay?!"

"Ryou, you have caller I.D.." I don't know how many times I'd had this argument with him, "But I'll save that for another time. I got locked in a closet."

"Locked in a closet? By Bakura?"

"With Bakura."

I held the phone away from my ear as my best friend screeched into it, "WHAT?!"

"Ryou, my hearing."

I could almost see him blush through the line, "Sorry. But oh, my, god! What happened? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"Well, look at it this way, we'll match now."

It took about three seconds for that to register, "You mean he _hit_ you?!"

_And that's not all he did._ "It's not the first time." But still, Ryou's concern for my wellbeing felt good and made my chest feel warm and constricted.

"What happened, how did you get out?"

"Well, Principal Utuskushii found us. We almost died from some steel shelves falling-" _Now for the kicker._ "-and we're sortofchainedtogether." I winced. _Please don't catch that last part._

"Chained together?! You and Bakura? He's with you, _there, _right now? Right _now_?! Wait, _died_?! What do you mean you almost died?"

I outlined it as quickly as I could, leaving out everything Bakura and I had said, "And now we're stuck like this for the weekend."

"Oh. My. GOD! What's your father going to do?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

His voice suddenly quieted, "Ohh..."

"What?"

"Our plans tomorrow..."

"Oh, yeah." I glanced over at Bakura, "You wouldn't happen to, um, mind going to an amusement park tomorrow with myself, Ryou, and his parents, would you?" his glare was answer enough and I sighed, turning back to the phone, "Sorry, Ryou."

"No, I know it's not your fault. But what am I going to say to them without you there?!"

I smiled, "The same thing you would if I _was _there. They're your parents, Ryou, not alien monsters intent on devouring you. Be brave, you can do this."

I heard him taking deep breaths, "Right. I can do this."

"There you go. Besides, we can meet up after you get back, assuming it's not too late. Definitely on Sunday."

"Okay. So, what are you going to do tomorrow?"

"Well, I promised Alister I'd drop by. Beyond that, I'll figure something out. Listen, Ryou, I have to get to my chores now."

"No, I know. I shouldn't have taken so much of your time, but I was just so worried."

"I know you were. See you later?"

"Of course. Good night. And tell Bakura to behave!"

"Riiight. You want me to give him the phone so you can tell him that personally?"

"No." he squeaked, "That's okay."

I smiled and held in my snicker, "Bye, Ryou."

"Bye, Marik."

I shook my head and hung up the phone. I led us to the kitchen and got out a garbage bag from the closet, "I have to clean everything up, then we can go to my room or... something."

Bakura stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed, watching me bend down to pick things up and moving as needed so I could get everything. We made several trips to the kitchen so I could pour what remained of the various bottles and cans down the sink. After nearly a half hour of watching this, he finally spoke again, "I thought you lived ritzier than this."

I looked up at him from my bent position in confusion, "Why would you think that?"

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, "You walk around the school dripping gold from every appendage. Hmm, can't see how I got that impression at all, can you?"

I went back to watching what I was doing, "Oh, that. It's my inheritance from my mother. But I don't have much any more, it was all sold except for what little I have left now. I only have... let's see..." I quickly tallied it up in my head, "Two arm bands, two cuffs, these three torqs, one other torq, and my circlet. And seven loose gem stones." that I was _not_ going to tell him the purpose of.

"Torq?"

I reached up to tap the gold at my neck, "These."

"Your necklaces."

I twitched. I hated that particular misconception, "They are not necklaces. Necklaces are flexible, torqs are rigid." I went back to my tally, "So don't think about taking anything, I know everything I own." which wasn't hard when you didn't own much.

"Ha, like any of your junk is worth knicking anyway." I turned away to hide my frown. I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved or insulted. I was leaning towards the latter. "So, must have been some party to make this much of a disaster."

I picked up another empty can, "No, just a normal week. There wasn't even a poker night this week, this is all just my father."

"...He drinks like a fish?" I ignored him and continued my cleaning. He jerked on the chain to our cuffs, "I asked you a question."

I yanked my hand back, "One that you can perfectly well guess the answer to. I don't like talking about my homelife. Anything I say is just going to end up as vitriol fodder around the school come Monday. I don't lie, but that doesn't mean I have to answer you."

"Whatever, be a hermit."

"My throat hurts, I don't feel like talking."

He scowled blackly at me and went back to crossing his arms and glaring at me in blessed silence. I wasn't going to let him talk me into revealing anything, I knew that trick well.

I picked up cans and bottles from the filthy floor quickly. The carpet was a muddy, purple sort of sludge tone. One couldn't even tell what color it had been originally (orange? I'm pretty sure I'd remarked to Odion about how ugly the orange carpeting was when we first moved in). I didn't vacuum, it would just ruin the machine with all the little bits of glass and metal, and I was convinced the floor couldn't be properly cleaned with anything not involving a flame thrower. Or bleach, but I'd been scolded when I'd tried that, the couch was currently sitting on the white splotch of ruined carpet.

I got the rest of the living room cleaned up and headed for the kitchen. I was tempted to smack my head against the wall in front of me when I heard Bakura's voice again, "Hey, you got anything to drink around here?"

_Well, now I feel like a jerk._ I sighed and started cleaning by the fridge, "Yeah, help yourself. We have some different sodas, and there's always water."

He opened the fridge and I held back my devious cackle at how comically round his eyes got at all the alcohol on every shelf and the door. I bent down to pick up more trash in hopes of hiding my silent laughter. I looked back up and my eyes widened at what he'd chosen. He lifted the carton of milk and I reacted too slowly, "Bakura, no! D-"

He immediately spat it out, "Ugh! What the hell?!"

"-on't..." I sighed and rubbed my forehead, "Thank you, I needed more to clean."

We went to the sink so he could rinse his mouth out and I took the milk carton and tossed it in the trash, like I probably should have done long ago. _I guess I should just be grateful I wasn't standing in front of him when he took the drink._ Somehow, I found it hard to feel the proper gratitude. I took deep breaths and stretched our chain as far as I could to get to the closet. I used the broom to pick up the bucket with my cleaning supplies in it.

I sprayed the wall and started wiping it off, halting my trash pick up for a moment before the milk dried and got sticky. When I finished and put my cleaning things back, Bakura was standing again, wiping his mouth, "I'm not thirsty anymore."

"Sorry about that. My siblings and I know not to touch that, and we haven't had guests over in... well, ever." the only outsider any of us had brought into the house was Ryou, and I'd known that was a mistake when I was doing it. Father came home early that day, on the war path, and I'd stuffed Ryou in my closet to hide him. After finding Ishizu and Odion weren't home, he'd taken his anger out on the only one could find: me.

I'd had Ryou sneak out of my bedroom window after my father left, more horrified than he'd ever been in his life, and I'd never invited him over again (not that he'd asked, and not that I blamed him for not asking). What if I'd been out of the room and he'd found Ryou instead? I shuddered at the thought.

Bakura surprisingly laughed, and it was a startlingly nice sound, "Nah, finally got a taste of my own medicine, I guess."

I smirked and went back to my cleaning. After another fifteen minutes or so, the house was clean to my satisfaction. We each took care of our own rooms, and the hallway miraculously never seemed to accumulate much clutter. I wiped off my forehead and tied the bag closed, tossing it outside for Odion to take to the recycling plant tomorrow. We had to make money wherever we could.

I smiled in accomplishment and turned back to Bakura, "There."

"Do you have any food in this place?"

I was getting hungry, too, "Well, there's taco stuff in the fridge that's pretty good, so long as you don't ask what meat was used to make it."

"Anything else?"

"Uh, no, not really. I mean, I could probably make something simple, like bread. But that's pretty much it. We're on the tail end of our last shopping trip and Odion doesn't get paid until tonight." I wasn't ashamed at the lack, it was just a fact of life. But I considered for a moment, "Well, we have plenty of spices, sugar, and flour. I could maybe make some cinnamon rolls."

Bakura looked surprised, "You can cook?"

I glanced at him, "It was my own Home Ec class I was hung out of. But, yeah, I'm learning. Actually, my siblings would probably really appreciate something sweet when they come home tonight."

"Well you can do your baking-thing after we eat, because I'm not up to waiting another hour when food's just five minutes in the microwave away."

"I thought you didn't want the taco stuff?"

He shrugged, "I'll eat anything if I'm hungry enough. Just get it out, would you?"

I rolled my eyes and got the things out. _Gods, my eyes are going to roll right out of my head by the time Monday comes around._ I made myself three taco rolls and passed the stuff to Bakura so he could make however many he was hungry for. A couple minutes in the black microwave each and we were eating in relative companionship (relative to the fighting, arguing, and glaring we'd already done, at least).

When we were finished he went to take my plate but I held on, "It's fine, I'll wash the dishes."

"I was only going to put it in the sink."

"Well now you don't have to."

He grabbed my wrist and glared at me, "I can carry two plates to the sink."

I stared down at his hand, feeling my face heat, "Touching me. You're touching me. Please stop touching me."

His grip loosened but didn't let go, "Yeah, and?"

"People don't really touch me. So could you..." Odion was the only one that really touched, to ruffle my hair or brush it away from my face.

"You have issues with being touched?" just issues with him touching me. An utter bastard Bakura might have been, but he wasn't exactly hard to look at, so long as one didn't mind the chance of getting a black eye for taking that look.

"N-not issues, per se. Just, nobody ever touches me. Not just to touch, anyway." The only scenarios in which I'd tried to touch someone else had ended... well, _badly_ was an understatement.

He frowned, "Not to hold hands or anything?"

"No. I've never held hands with anyone." Weird but true; my hands were the most virgin part of me. I felt the need to point out: "You're still touching me."

Bakura sighed and let my wrist go, changing the subject, "You didn't eat very much, Ishtar."

I twitched, standing up and taking our dishes to the sink to wash, "Marik."

"What?"

"My name is Marik. There are four people in our school with the last name Ishtar." not that my name was so unique, even in my own family, but Malice wasn't using it at the moment, and, to my knowledge, no one else in the school had it but us.

"Sure, whatever you say, _Malik_."

I turned with my wet hands and splashed his face, "You aren't Japanese, _Bakula_, the mistaking an L for an R thing is no excuse for you."

He looked shocked for a moment and I waited for it to turn into anger, surprised when he crossed his arms and smirked at me, "You're really not going to let me get away with anything, are you?"

I smiled and went back to the dishes, "Not a thing."

His laughter filled the kitchen again and I shivered, "It's going to be a fun weekend."

_But fun for who?_

x


	3. Chapter 3

I sat backwards in a chair watching _Marik_ work at making cinnamon rolls, moving from place to place and dragging my arm around. I was just about in the perfect position to watch his ass as he moved about. It was disturbing that he managed to make the shapeless uniform look good.

I cracked my head against the back of the chair to knock some sense into myself. _Focus_. The house wasn't anything like what I'd pictured Ishtar having, let alone the disaster area within it. It was obvious his father consumed more alcohol than air with how the fridge was filled. It made me wonder what else I'd been wrong about.

_"I don't like talking about my homelife."_

_"N-not issues, per se. Just, nobody ever touches me. Not just to touch, anyway."_

_"I'm not afraid of you, Bakura. If you really feel the need to crush me, to break me, I invite you to try. Others have made the attempt, others far more intimidating than you."_

_"Sorry about that. My siblings and I know not to touch that, and we haven't had guests over in... well, ever." _

What kind of drunk _was_ his father? I shook my head. _Get real, Bakura, you're reading __**way**__ too much into this._ _Then again, it's weird to not lock your door in a neighborhood like this one._ It wasn't the ghetto, but it certainly wasn't Stepford. I shook my head again.

"Bakura? I can't reach the cupboard with the powdered sugar if you're sitting."

I looked up, "Huh? Yeah, whatever." I stood up and followed as he went to get his cooking ingredients. After a few minutes of puttering around he was lost in his own little world and I sat back down again.

I watched him work, not having any talent in the kitchen myself. He mixed sugar and cinnamon and a bowl with butter, then rolled out the dough he'd made while I was thinking and spread it out, smearing the butter mixture all over it. He rolled it up and got out a large knife, cutting it in half, then halving those pieces, and cutting the result in thirds. He buttered two round pans and stuffed the newly made rolls in them. He put them in the oven and wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, streaking it with flour.

He put the pans in the oven, started playing with the powdered sugar, and made icing through some alchemy I missed, setting the bowl aside to start cleaning up the mess he'd made. The kitchen filled with fantastic smells in the mean time. He looked -I felt like smacking myself for even thinking it- _cute_ working in the kitchen with flour and powdered sugar on his face. It was official, I was losing it.

_He just shows some bloody spine, and you start looking at him different? You're going soft._ He may have been a damn prat, but he was at least a good-looking prat.

Ishtar turned to me, wiping his hands on a dish towel, "Okay, those should be done in about a half hour or so. Let's go to my room, I should get started on my homework." I shrugged and followed him as he grabbed his bag and led me down the hallway.

He glanced back at me in front of the second door on the left, then turned the knob and went it. I froze in the doorway. Every wall and the entire ceiling was covered in papers; sketches and drawings. There was a definite monopoly of the subject. I looked back at him wryly, "Shot it the dark, here; but I'm guessing you might have a minor thing for scorpions."

He glanced my way and smiled, "What would give you that idea?"

Maybe the thousands of them around his room? He moved to a terrarium and I followed, "You have an actual scorpion?"

"Yeah, this is Serket."

I surprised us both when I said: "Cool."

He moved to his bed and got out text books, immediately burying himself in homework. I took the opportunity to openly snoop around his room. It was small, I could go everywhere in it without him having to move more than his arm. There was a dresser, a book shelf, the -I wasn't even going to call it a _desk_- stand that the scorpion was on with a small chair, a bedside table, and the bed. There was also a slide-open closet at the foot of the bed, but I wasn't counting that as a piece of furniture.

The white bookshelf was obviously the entertainment center of the room, completely filled with books. On the top was a golden rod of what I guessed was Egyptian design on a stand. It looked to be of the same kind of design my own personal treasure was, and my hand strayed up to press against the circle under my uniform. I pointed out the thing, "What's that?"

He looked up from his work, "It's a family heirloom, the Millennium Rod. It's one of seven Millennium Items that used to reside in Egypt."

"Seven?"

He nodded, put down his pen and frowned in thought, "Yeah. Let's see what I can remember... There's the Millennium Rod, the Millennium Necklace, the Millennium Key, the Millennium Scales, the Millennium Eye, the Millennium Puzzle, and the Millennium Ring." he pulled open a drawer in the bedside table and took out a book, flipping through it before handing it to me, "Here."

"Hmm." I took it and realized it was a sketch book. There were more of the _Millennium Items_ on the page, each one drawn in amazing detail with the name written under it in several different languages. I found mine in the lower right corner and memorized it. _The Millennium Ring, huh?_ It was the first thing I'd ever stolen, and the original owner had died mysteriously the next week, so it's theft was never reported. I hadn't questioned my luck.

I don't know how long I went through all the sketches, but eventually I put the drawing pad aside and went back to looking around.

Besides the books there was... nothing. No video games, no board games, not even a television or a handheld, though there'd been a t.v. in the livingroom, but no movies or DVDs. The place was just... empty, "What do you do for fun around here?"

"I leave." I looked over to see him absorbed in his assignment.

"You don't watch television or anything?"

"No. I read sometimes. Mostly I stay away as long as I can. Ryou and I go out to do things." It was like he was hypnotized or something.

"Why?"

"Keeps me away from the house."

"Why?"

"Out of sight, out of mind. Father and I can each pretend the other doesn't exist. It's better that way, so long as I'm home in time."

"And that's good?"

"I'm a disappointment, he's a prick. It works." I was about to ask another question when a shrill beeping invaded and Ishtar seemed to snap out of his trance, "The rolls!"

I followed him as he went out and pulled the cinnamon buns from the oven with mitts, putting them on the stove and pouring the icing over them. I'd not much liked the thought of the wait earlier, but the way they smelled now was thoroughly convincing.

He carefully pulled off a bun for each of us and we moved to the living room to sit on the couch and eat them. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, his lips twitching, "Sorry we don't have any milk."

I glared at him and he hid behind his sticky bun with a smile. I rolled my eyes and went back to my own, "Whatever." Okay, he could cook. Like, _really_ cook. Bake. Whatever. It was better than any cinnamon bun I'd ever tried that came from a can, that much was certain.

I was pulled out of sticky bun bliss when the front door slammed open and Ishtar jumped nearly three feet in the air. Besides skin tone, there was little resemblance between the father standing -there was no other word for it- _menacingly _in the doorway, and son sitting stiffly next to me on the couch.

His eyes were bleary, from what I could probably safely assume was due to being drunk, as they settled on me, "What are you doing in my house?"

I sneered back and held up my wrist to show the handcuffs, "Believe me, I wouldn't be in this shit hole if I had any other choice. Unfortunately, I'm stuck like this until Monday."

His expression went thunderous and I saw Ishtar pale out of the corner of my eye, staring at me with wide eyes. _Yeah, that's pretty definitive, guess that answers what type of drunk he is._ He stormed over, "Get out!"

I shrugged and stood up, "Come on, Marik, looks like we're staying at my place."

I smirked up at the old man defiantly. _Keep going, if your face twists anymore it's likely to stick that way. Not that it wouldn't be an improvement._ He looked over at Ishtar and growled, "Go to your room." he looked my way, "Both of you." he glared at his son, "We'll talk about this later."

Oddly, those words didn't seem to bring my fellow captive any comfort. Ishtar dragged me along to his room, I glared over my shoulder the whole way. He let out a breath as he closed the door, "It's not a good idea to antagonize a drunk."

I scoffed, "It's not a good idea to antagonize me, either."

I stared at him until he flushed and looked away, "Whatever."

"Just get back to your school work, because I'm going back out for another cinnamon roll before the night is over."

He sighed, "We'll have to be very quiet. If he catches us out of my room after he sent us here, it won't be pretty."

"Not a surprise, he's hardly a beauty. You adopted?"

Ishtar stared up at me like I'd grown another head, then another after that, "Careful, Bakura, that was dangerously close to sounding like a complement. But, no, he's my biological father, I just look like my mother. It's always been a point of contention, much like with you. I look weak- " he grimaced, "- 'girly'. My older brother is adopted, but my father didn't want him, only taking him in because my mother wanted to."

"Is that why the..." I motioned to my hair.

"The blonde hair on an Egyptian?" He shook his head, "No. My mother had dark hair. As for my unique looks, well..." he shrugged, "Inbreeding? Premature graying? Who knows?"

I picked up the sketch book I'd been looking at earlier and sat on the foot of the bed, flipping through it, "I'm adopted. The case could be made for Thief to technically be called my brother _and_ cousin."

"The family resemblance is... strong."

"Some would say distracting."

"Eh, some families just have strong blood."

We devolved into silence again, him going over his school assignments and me looking through the sketch book. One particular drawing interested me, it was a scene of a tomb or something with an altar at the back. Underneath it was the title 'Temple of the Kings' and there was an arrow pointing to something in a small corner. The arrow was labeled 'Serket' and pointed to a tiny scorpion drawn in exacting detail despite the miniscule size.

There were other drawings in the book, of fantastical creatures; an enormous red dragon with two mouths, identified as 'Slifer the Sky Dragon, The Sacred Dragon of Osiris' to name one. There were sphinxes, both stone and still-lifes, an alligator-headed creature dubbed simply 'Sobek', and -of course- some more scorpions, including, apparently, a monster based on Ishtar's own little pet, Serket.

The amount of detail was just mystifying. Some of these things looked like they could come right off the page. I was tempted to ask if he was willing to become a graffiti artist before shaking myself back to reality. I lost myself in the pages again, looking through sarcophagi, pyramids, one odd turtle with a pyramid on its back, and a hundred other wonders. If nothing else, I was going to have to be careful not to injure Marik's hands.

As someone who's own craft depended on the use of my hands, I could respect the skill these had taken to make. Ishtar might be an emotionally stunted prat, but he had skills.

"Uh, Bakura?"

I looked up, "What?"

"You said you wanted another roll? Well, I'm done with my work. And Father's probably out of it enough for us to sneak out and get one."

"Oh, right." I stretched and realized how stiff I was, "What time is it?"

Ishtar cocked his head thoughtfully, "About... ten-thirty?"

"So late?" I glanced around and noticed a distinct lack of clock, "And you know this, how?"

He shrugged, "I just have a feel for the time. The only actual clocks we have are the one on the stove, and my sister's alarm clock."

I gave him a questioning look, "Why?"

He shrugged again, "Why waste the money on another clock when she'd probably just come in to make sure I was awake anyway? The walls here are paper-thin, I can hear her clock perfectly well through two sets of walls."

_Makes sense to me._ I put the book on the stand, "Sticky buns?"

"Let's go." He opened his door like a soldier in enemy territory, looking out suspiciously before nodding silently and motioning me forward. We made it to the kitchen unmolested and he tore both of us off another roll, handing me mine and something to drink from the fridge, then taking us to the couch to sit down.

Soda and cinnamon bun was not my ideal combination, but it worked, if threatening to induce a diabetic coma. If Marik could bake like this, I seriously needed to contemplate taking Home Ec. I could secretly enroll Thief along with me as revenge, he'd hate that. He hated everything relating to both home, and economics; it was perfect!

We stood up to take our empty cans out to the trash when he tensed as the front door opened, a woman I could only assume was his sister coming through and spotting him immediately, "Where were you?! Odion and I waited as long as we-"

Ishtar made shushing motions, "Ishizu, quiet; Father's home."

She finally caught sight of me and stiffened, "Marik, what is _he_ doing here?" she whisper-yelled, "Get rid of him!"

He held up his shackled wrist and I obliged by doing the same, "That's a bit of a problem, sister, we're kind of stuck together."

Shock was clear on her face, "What in the world happened?"

"Principal Utuskushii's unique brand of punishment: we're stuck like this until monday."

"Punishment? What could you possibly have done to get in trouble with the school?"

He hesitated, glancing at me, "I... got into a fight... with Bakura."

"A _fight_?!"

Ishtar snapped, "Yeah, you know: that act of violence in which two or more people use their bodies or weapons to try and hurt each other."

"I know what a fight is, Marik! How did you even get in one in the first place?"

"The usual way: he hit me, I hit back."

"Marik Namu Yassir Mafdet Ishtar, don't you dare try to skirt the subject with me!"

He held up his hands in a pleading gesture, "Ishizu, _please_, your voice." they both froze, listening intently for something I couldn't hear, then sighed, "It's only until Monday, then we're free again."

I pointed at Ishtar, "He started it."

He glared at me while his sister went off on him, "I _know_ you did not go and do something so _incredibly_ stupid."

He widened his eyes in fake surprise, "I didn't? Oh, good; I was worried there for a second."

"_Marik!_"

"_What?!_" he shook his head, "What do you want me to say, sister? That I regret it? Fine, I regret it. Should I beg? Drop to my knees and grovel? _What_ do you want from me?"

She crossed her arms, flicked her gaze to and back to her brother and said something that sounded like utter gibberish, Ishtar replying with something similar. She spoke more nonsense, threw her hands up in a huff, and stalked down the hall where a door could be heard slamming shut.

He sighed, "And that was my sister."

"In all her fury."

"Huh? Oh, no, that was only rather annoyed. Our arguments have been known to bring people running, they get so loud." he shook his head and turned to me, "So, what side do you sleep on?"

"Side of what?"

"Of your body. The bed isn't big enough for two people. One of us is going to have to sleep on the floor. If we even tried to both sleep on the bed and whoever was on the end fell off, it'd be a very rude awakening for the other one. I'm right-handed and tend to sleep on my right side or on my stomach."

I smirked, "Convenient."

"How so?"

I held up my cuffed right wrist, "I'm left-handed."

He smiled, then bent over, his shoulders shaking, before finally giving in to full-fledged, whole-bodied laughter. It was a happy, contagious thing, and I found myself snickering along with him. He looked up at me with sparkling eyes, "_Way_ too much thought put into chaining us together."

I shook my head, still smirking, "What about that brother of yours?"

"My siblings work late on fridays. Odion won't be in until almost midnight. Now, about our bed situation..."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm not sleeping with either my arm in the air or hanging off the edge of a bed all night long."

He crossed his arms and sighed, "And your grand solution for not having to do either of those things is...?"

"Move the bedding to the floor, where we'll _both_ sleep." Another thought occurred to me, "Do you even have extra blankets for whichever one of us would have slept on the floor with your plan?"

He uncrossed his arms and looked away, "Well... no. I mean, I have an extra comforter for winter, but that's it."

"So I guess I win by default, then."

"Okay, you win. I don't think it was much of an argument, but you win whatever there is of it." he smiled as he said it, though.

"Let's go, I'm about ready for this day to be over with."

"Same here."

We went back and moved all the bedding to the floor, and I watched him dig out an extra pillow, valiantly refraining from throwing it at me; I saw the thought cross his mind before he held it out diplomatically. I took it and turned to put it at the head of the makeshift bed, "Smart choice."

I turned back around and saw him blush, wondering what he'd done behind my back. He smiled widely, "I reserve the right to kick you as hard as I can if you hog the blankets or snore."

"I reserve the right to smother you with my pillow if you drool."

We stared at each other, coming to grips with the terms of our truce before laying down and putting our backs to each other. There were several minutes of silence before he spoke again, "Good night, Bakura."

I covered my head with the blankets, then after hesitating for a minute, muttered, "Night... Marik."

I woke up when I felt him tense against my back. Listening close, I heard footsteps in the room. Trusting my instincts, I tossed the covers back and sat up in a single motion, coming face-to-face with Ishtar the Senior. I flicked my gaze over to see Marik trying to pretend he was asleep, and it might have fooled anyone else, but it didn't fool me, I'd felt every muscle in his body go stiff before he forced himself to relax.

I looked back up at his father and rubbed my eyes in faux sleepiness, "Did you need something?"

I didn't miss the fury that passed over his features before he schooled them into concerned neutrality, "No, I just came in to check on you two." _Bullshit._ Both of us were wearing masks, and we both knew it.

I don't know what he'd actually come in for, though it wasn't hard to come up with some theories. But I knew it wasn't because he was any kind of worried father. I yawned, "We're fine. But could you please not do that? I wake up at the least little noise, and we have plans tomorrow." _Translation: I'm watching, bastard, don't think to sneak past me._

He nodded, "Right. Sorry to wake you. Good night. Be careful out there tomorrow." _Noted, and watch yourself._

My 'sleepy' gaze faded to a glare as he turned around and left. I looked back at Marik and considered calling him on his bluff, demanding information; but in the end I let him keep his secrets and laid back down. I kept my ears open to any sounds, though, just in case...

x


End file.
